The Good Luck Gift
by Easy Rider
Summary: This is a parody of Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Cask of Amontillado' which I did for school. However it is modern day, and set in a theatre. It will be more enjoyable for you to read if you have read the original already, which i would advise anyway as it is a


The Good Luck Gift  
  
I had borne the thousands of injuries of Rebecca as best I could, but then she added insult to injury. She not only callously stole the lead role away from my grasp (in the forthcoming play), but then bestowed yet another humiliation upon me by insisting that I serve as her understudy, thus ensuring that I received no role of my own. As you can imagine, I vowed revenge. However, you, who know my nature so well, will know also that I did not give utterance to a threat, but decided that at length I would be avenged.  
  
Over the following hours, days and weeks of rehearsal, I dextrously devised my exquisite revenge. It must be understood that neither by word, nor action, had I given Rebecca cause to query my goodwill. I continued (as is my nature) to smile at her, wish her luck, and continually shower her with adoration and praise. My thoughts of misconduct were entirely unperceivable, how could she identify that my joy was in fact present at the thought of her downfall.  
  
In spite of her numerous talents, she had a weakness, this Rebecca. She was utterly obsessed with her own person, and she would relish in any opportunity to indulge any part of her being, be it mental, physical or some other constituent. She delighted in being praised, and took much pleasure in receiving gifts with which she could pamper herself. So, when I encountered her on the opening night of the performance, and informed her that some unknown admirer had left her a sizeable amount of gifts, she promptly instructed me to take her to where the were lain. Of course I attempted to encumber her venture –  
"Surely these prizes can wait, for you are due on stage in less than fifteen minutes." I implored.  
"Take me, I cannot wait!"  
"But your make-up, your costume..."  
"My make-up can wait, and I shall not dirty my costume. I must go now! Besides my hair is already dressed, and that is the most time consuming preparation."  
"I shall have them brought up then, you may see them in the interval."  
"No! I tell you I cannot wait!"  
"But you need to prepare, you need to..."  
"Stop! Stop! Dissemble no more and show me where my treasures rest." And so we hurried downwards towards the labyrinth of rooms which lay below the grand theatre. We passed through several suites, and down long and winding staircases. All rooms were deserted, as no work was needed to be done, and all help was required for the performance to run smoothly. At length we came to a vast fire door, which held behind it numerous workshops and storage spaces. We were about to enter, but at that point, a small bell rang beside Rebecca's head.  
"Come" I said with resolution "We should return, for if that was the cast call bell, we shall still have sufficient time to prepare you for tonight's performance. Besides, these gifts are surely not more important than this show's, and your own, success."  
"No they are not, but my performance would be greatly hindered if I had not seen these offerings, as my mind would be preoccupied pondering what wonders awaited me. Let us continue" And so we did.  
"This space stretches for miles."  
"The theatre" I replied 'has been operating for numerous years. They prefer to retain their used items than dispose of them."  
"That is clear." Rebecca said as she tried to brush off the dust which had accumulated on her once pristine gown.  
"You must return, you cannot go on stage with your attire in such a state, I shall have the gifts sent up."  
"Don't be so senseless, it will brush off, in any case, there is an identical costume waiting for me should such a matter arise." And she pressed onwards, towards our goal.  
"Is that the theatre's emblem?" She questioned.  
"Well of course, it is the same as all theatres throughout the globe."  
"And it's meaning?"  
"It shows the four faces of the stage – joy, grief, alarm..."  
"And the fourth?"  
"Revenge."  
"How, inspired."  
  
We sustained our route in search of the gifts, gradually quickening our pace so as not to miss the show. It was in this haste that Rebecca caught her hair upon a protruding piece of machinery, which therefore led to her tresses falling down from where they had been expertly positioned.  
"Come" I said again "Let us go back ere it is too late. Your hair now also needs attending to."  
"It is nothing, it cannot ruin me. A hair out of place will surely not be my downfall!"  
"True, true," I replied, "I had not meant to alarm you, just remind you of our situation."  
  
Some minutes later we reached the lowest level of the building. Here it was dark, dank and dingy as it was not often visited. We turned the corner at the end of the corridor, and could just make out one last room. Rebecca tried to turn on a light, but the bulb had previously been blown so we ventured forward, being lit only by the faint light from the corridor behind us. At length we reached the final room, and Rebecca peered inside, but evidently could not see the interior, as her person was obstructing the only light source. "Go inside the room" I advised "Then you shall be able to see the gifts which await you." And so she made her way inside, and as she did, I cunningly shut the door and softly turned the key in the lock.  
"My presents!" she ejaculated "I cannot see them now that the door is closed!" And she thereby began to rattle the handle.  
"Let me out! What have you done to the door?! And at that point I hearkened as the bell rang once again, scarcely audible through the labyrinth through which we'd laboriously traversed. But on this occasion, it rang not once, but twice, indicating that the performance was soon to begin.  
"Did you hear that Rebecca?" I taunted, "Once again, I entreat you to return! The performance will be starting shortly."  
"That I am aware of, but this door will not open for me. Hasten, help me carry my gifts, but first you must assist me, the door is held fast!"  
"Rebecca, do you not hear me, we must go, this is madness!"  
"But I cannot leave, this door is fastened shut, why do you not assist me? We must go!" I did not reply, but stood silently, all my senses trained on the door. The silence thickened as she too waited for me to react, but as realisation slowly dawned on my quarry, she exploded with fury, kicking and pounding the door. This assault soon abated as she fell to the floor with exhaustion.  
"Implore you as I have, you still refuse to come? Then I must absolutely leave you, for the show surely cannot go on without a leading lady!"  
"You despicable rogue! Now let me go, for I must take my place on stage!"  
"Hold me no longer, my audience awaits me and I can tarry no more. I must make haste, I need to prepare, and time is short." She began to sob. But I had no time to stop and delight in her sorrow. I took one last look at her prison, and was consequently assaulted by a succession of shrill outbursts, which seemed to thrust me violently backwards. For a fleeting moment I hesitated, I trembled. I reached out for the key, to turn it and set her free, but then she shouted one last time, shocking me back to reality, in a desperate, sorrowful voice, which I hardly recognised as that of the dignified Rebecca.  
"Ha! Ha! Ha! He! He! A superb joke, indeed, an outstanding hoax. We shall laugh till the early hours with this tale – he! he!  
"Yes, at the aftershow party!" I said  
"He! He! He! Ha! Ha! – yes, the party He! He! But is it not getting late, should we not make our way back to the theatre? Let us be gone."  
"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."  
"Forgive me!" She cried  
"Yes" I said, "Forgive me" I hearkened for a reply, but in vain for no answer disseminated from the recesses of her holding. I grew impatient. "Rebecca!" No reply. I called again – "Rebecca!" Once more, no reply. I thrust my face towards the small window in the door, and took a last look around the space. There came in return only the faintest sob. My stomach grew sick; it was the thought of the imminent performance which made it so. I hastened to make an end to my toil. I removed the rusting, old key from its resting place and transferred it to my pocket. For many hours no one has disturbed her. And for many more hours I intend not to either. 


End file.
